T for Troll
by Ismira Daugene
Summary: Set nearly 60 years after the final battle, this is a short and sweet one shot depicting what happens when loose ends come back to haunt the famous Harry Potter.


**A/N:** Just a quick note before you read. This is a one shot, and a one shot only. I don't plan on continuing it. Also, I don't own the Harry Potter 'verse. J.K. Rowling has that divine pleasure, although the characters Magenta and Neville are my creations.

Thank you! Enjoy!

**o O o O o O o**

**T for Troll**

Harry Potter sighed deeply and ran his hand through his untidy hair that at one time had been jet-black, but now sported more grey than anything else. It had been a long day and he was tired and ready to join Ginny in bed. However he'd been called to his office for a matter of great urgency, according to Professor Patil. He absently pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looked down at the object before him. It had been lost for nearly sixty years and he'd hoped to never see it again however here it was, lying before him on the desk that had served nearly every Hogwarts Headmaster or Headmistress since the school had opened. The sleeping portraits of those individuals lined the walls of the room he sat in, his office now.

Harry gently picked up the small object and studied it over the thin wire frame of his glasses. The metalwork was simplistic and very old, but not nearly as old as the cracked dark stone that lay as a centerpiece. The ring was a coveted item; many wizards would kill to have it. Fortunately, only two knew of its location, the first being himself, the second being the young second year student sitting across from him. She sat stiffly in the wooden high back chair, her hands wringing and her feet slowly swinging back and forth. She held her dark head down, but Harry knew her eyes were a vibrant shade of green – nearly the same color as his own.

Harry sighed again; he would have to find out how she came by the ring and perhaps if any others knew of it. "Magenta?" he addressed her quietly.

The girl looked up, her dark curly hair framing her pale thin face. There were tearstains running down her cheeks as well as on her pale pink hand-knit jumper. "Magenta, I need to know how you came by this ring, please."

She wrung her hands even harder and looked down sniffling deeply before answering. "It was a dare. Cousin Neville told me if I spent the night in the Forbidden Forest he wouldn't tell mum and dad about the T I got in transfiguration."

Harry frowned. He knew for a fact, that there was no such grade as T. Though he'd once been told by Fred and George Weasley that it stood for Troll and it was the worst possible grade a student could receive. He remained silent though and allowed her to continue. "S – so I went out and I found a spot to stay where the trees were close together. It didn't seem that bad, and I settled down at the bottom of a tree. That was where I found it. I was clearing the leaves away and I found that in the dirt. I thought it was pretty, even with the cracked stone, so I put it on and fell asleep with it on. I woke up to the sound of howling and thought it was a werewolf. I panicked and ran back to the castle, not caring what Neville would tell mum and dad. That's when I ran into Professor Patil…" she stopped and sniffled again.

"You didn't tell anyone of the ring?" Harry asked. He knew he wasn't being as comforting as the girl needed, but this was important.

"No… just Professor Patil who saw it."

Three… Harry amended his list of people who knew of the ring to include Padma Patil who taught transfiguration. It wasn't as bad as he thought. This would be easy to rectify, however Magenta needed him more right now. Pushing his glasses back up his nose again, he looked across the desk at the small girl. "Magenta…" he quietly addressed her. "Maggie, why are you crying?"

"'Cuz n-now that I told you about the T in transfiguration y-you're gonna t-tell mum and dad," she stuttered.

"Maggie, come here honey," Harry pushed back from his desk and opened his arms for the thin girl to rush into.

She threw herself into his arms and buried her face in his robes, sobbing so hard her shoulders shook and heaved. "I'm sorry Grandpa! I'm so sorry!" she mumbled into his robes.

Harry gently patted her back and hummed a soothing tune. Once she'd quieted a little, he drew back slightly and looked down at her tearstained face. "Maggie, darling… there's no such thing as a T grade. Cousin Neville tricked you. In fact, I received a report from Professor Patil about how well you were doing in Transfiguration just yesterday."

Her face grew blank with this new knowledge and she stopped crying. "But… but Neville…"

"Neville likes to play pranks. You know that, sweetie. Next time he tries to do something like that, come see me, okay?"

Maggie nodded and leaned back into her grandfather's embrace. Harry would have to have a stern talking to with Neville Potter, son of his own eldest, James. Little Maggie was the youngest daughter of Albus, Harry's middle child. It wouldn't do to bring James in on the situation. He had a tendency to overreact to Neville's pranks, which was ironic considering James' own prank history.

"Maggie, I need you to do me a really big favor, okay?" Maggie leaned back to see her grandfather's face and nodded. "I need you to keep the ring a secret, okay? It's important that no one else know about it. Can you do that for me?"

Maggie nodded her head, but did not look pacified. "What is it, Maggie?" Harry asked sensing the child's distress.

"Am I in trouble? For going in the Forbidden Forest?"

"No, honey. Neville played a mean trick on you and you wouldn't get in trouble for that. Just remember to come to me next time or owl your mum and dad before listening to him, okay?"

Maggie smiled and nodded again. "Now," Harry said setting the child on her feet. "I think it's time for bed, don't you?" Maggie tried to answer, but it got lost in a yawn. Harry chuckled and walked her to the door of his office where Professor Patil stood waiting. "Padma, please make sure Magenta makes it back to Hufflepuff, will you? We'll talk tomorrow about the ring."

Padma Patil nodded and gently guided Magenta out of the door and to the spiral staircase. Harry sighed and looked back at his desk where the ring lay. It would be best if it were simply lost to time forever, but it seemed that the Deathly Hallow had come back to haunt him. He cautiously approached the former Horcrux, reaching out for it with a weathered and wrinkled hand. The cool metal greeted him as he picked it up and held it in his palm. The temptation to slip it on and speak to his parents as he'd done right before his confrontation with Voldemort was nearly overwhelming, but he resisted and walked over to one of the cabinets in the room. He opened the door and pulled out a small yew wood box, unlocked it with a wandless spell, and dropped the ring in, locking the box tightly. He thrust the box back into the cabinet, deciding to deal with it tomorrow when he could ask for the opinion of one Albus Dumbledore who was currently snoozing, or pretending to, against the edge of his frame on the wall behind the Headmaster's desk.

With a mighty yawn, Harry made his way back to his quarters that he shared with his wife and slid under the covers after slipping out of his robe. Ginny moaned and shifted slightly, curling into his side, but did not wake. Harry gently kissed the top of her graying head and closed his eyes, drifting into sleep almost immediately.


End file.
